Months before I got bit by the Boston bug and decided to run a marathon, I resolved to start running again. The last time I called myself a runner, I was 16 and a junior in high school.
I ran track and cross country every year from second through eleventh grade, but I wasn’t as dedicated as I could have been. I ran for fun — and to get out of class once in awhile — not to win. I was always one of the top five girls on my team, which equated to a middle-of-the-pack runner at meets. My mile time back then was an unimpressive 6:35.
When I got a job my senior year of high school, I chose to work and earn money instead of going to cross country practice, so I ended up quitting the team.
After that I ran occasionally, no more than about three miles at a time...